


The mirror.

by Dandelion_queen



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Anger, Angst, Cheating, Established Relationship, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, In Love, Making Up, Smut, Troubled Relationship, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:26:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandelion_queen/pseuds/Dandelion_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and his wife. It's a little angsty but finishes hopeful.<br/>(Reading this back years later it makes me super uncomfortable but oh well..)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The mirror.

He was quiet. That's never like Tom especially when you'd been apart for so long.  
"I've missed you." You wrap your arms around him and feel the resistance in the way he stands, almost angling himself away. His hands don't reciprocate the embrace and you know that something is badly wrong in that moment. A thousand different thoughts race through your mind and past situations are brief flashes as you try to come up with any reason as to why the man you love is being this way.

You pull away and look up at him, searching his expression. The eyes that meet yours are cold and seemingly void of any warmth behind their stormy blue colouring.  
"Tom?"  
He moves away.  
"What?" he snaps with barely concealed annoyance.  
He's tired, it has to be that. A long shoot away from home and a five hour flight have no doubt taken their toll.  
"Is..is everything ok?"  
He sighs and runs his long fingers through his blonde curls, the look he gives you speaks volumes.  
"I don't know. You tell me."  
He leaves, you don't stop him. You could sense that whatever was troubling him was enough that you'd be better off giving him his space.

The door goes at 2.30 am, you've texted and called and not once had he replied.  
You hear him stumble and crash into the coat stand in the hallway. He's drunk.  
A roar has you up and on your feet as you hear the smash of the mirror downstairs and various thuds. Racing down you are greeted to the sight of Tom stripped to the waist with the hallway in ruins, the mirror is in pieces, the coat stand snapped clean in half and your wedding photo is under his foot as he stamps on it, he laughs darkly when he meets your eyes.  
"What..why are you doing this?" you can hear the shrillness of your own voice.  
"You fucking know why!" he bellows, he's all taut with anger and bleeding from his lip.

It had been four months. A drunken moment of weakness on your part. Tom was never home and you'd gotten lonely. While he was shooting on location yet again you'd been left to your own devices, the photos of him with his female co-star had stung. It took two days to get hold of him on the phone and all you'd done is row. You went out with the girls and bumped into an old friend. Of course he was sympathetic, listening as you told him it all.  
Then you were at home in your bed, he isn't Tom but he's there at least. Your nails digging in his back as you urge him to "Fuck me!"  
That's how Tom found you, legs wrapped around another man as he fucked you on the bed. You looked up and screamed, Tom had his hand over his mouth as though he couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

The scene was ugly. Punches were thrown and then Tom is out the door and telling you to "Get away from me!"  
You sob yourself to sleep. You've ruined it.  
He came back, it wasn't pretty.  
You begged him. He pushed you away but still you followed him around the house begging for another chance.  
You're pathetic as you cling to him "Please..."  
He packed and left to begin his next project.  
This time you'd both called each other every night, he began teasing you and it wasn't long till you'd talk to him and tell him all those things he loved to hear while he palmed himself in a sterile hotel room. You felt a flutter of hope. We could fix it. 

"Please." you have your hands on either side of his face.  
"I fucked her." he says. "Are we even?" You pull him into your arms.  
"What have we done?" you whisper.  
His hand fists up into your hair, his lips meet yours with a bruising passion, you taste blood and whiskey.  
"I'm not ready for it to end." he says. He picks you up like you're nothing and half throws you on the couch in the living room. You want him.

Tom fucks you hard, you know why he's doing this and you welcome it.  
His hands under your backside as he hold you close against him, you've never felt as loved or as hated. Shame and lust coiling in your gut, you're healing by hurting each other.  
"I love you." you tell him and he's softer now, less tension. He takes a while to cum because he's so drunk but it didn't matter to you. You'd missed the way his lean hard body covered you like this, a rhythm of part pain and pleasure swelling inside you as you reach your peak twice thanks to his merciless fucking.  
"I don't care about her..I just want you back." he growls. He shivers when he cums. You are still wrapped in each other's arms when his cock slips out of you all soft and his cum follows seeping warm on your thigh.  
"We'll fix it." he promises.

The morning after you're suddenly shy of the man who hands you your cup of coffee, the man you've been married to for three years.  
He grabs your bare feet and places them in his lap.  
"Wear shoes when you go upstairs." he says.  
You knew the shattered mirror fragments would be everywhere still.  
"I haven't picked up the pieces yet." he rubs your foot.  
"But we will." you tell him.


End file.
